


Imprisoned

by dreamcatcher (darcangell23)



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, Prison, Rumors, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcangell23/pseuds/dreamcatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Our friends in the cast of Glee are prisoners at Angeles State Penitentiary, a coed correctional facility with a straight-forward way of doing things. No prisoner knows another by first name unless told by said prisoner as as otherwise it is considered invasion of privacy. Darren Criss aka Everett has just been locked up, sharing a cell with the prison's most notorious prisoner who goes by the name CP. can Darren break the walls that have kept CP so guarded from the world for so long? Or will CP end up breaking him instead? Rated for later chapters!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Legend of CP

**Author's Note:**

> So this is entirely AU. The majority of the fic will have the characters referred to by nickname so I will provide a list here so you know who everyone is.
> 
> Chris Colfer - CP  
> Darren Criss - Everett  
> Kevin McHale - Mickey  
> Cory Monteith - Monty  
> Mark Salling - Hawk  
> Harry Shum Jr. - Jr.  
> Chord Overstreet - CO  
> Damian McGinty - McG  
> Samuel Larsen - Lars  
> Alex Newell - News  
> Jacob Artist - Brush  
> Blake Jenner - BJ  
> Max Adler - Addy  
> Grant Gustin - Gust  
> Lea Michele - Chelle  
> Naya Rivera - River  
> Heather Morris - Morri  
> Melissa Benoist - Lis  
> Jenna Ushkowitz - Witz  
> Becca Tobin - Toby  
> Amber Riley - Riles  
> Vanessa Lengies - Ness  
> Ashley Fink - Ink  
> Dianna Agron - Di  
> Lauren Potter - Pots
> 
> The only student character actors missing are a few whose actual names I don't remember. Otherwise majority is main cast. Show producers and actors who play teachers are prison guards and Ryan Murphy is the Warden. Also, each prisoner has a prison identification number that some of the crueler guards will only recognize them by. So I'll give you that list. These numbers are by no means random. They are actually the actor's first name in correspondence with the numbers on a telephone keypad with a zero at the beginning. And yes, I used Christopher rather than just Chris so including the zero, his is twelve digits long.
> 
> Christopher - #024747867437  
> Darren - #0327736  
> Kevin - #053846  
> Cory - #02679  
> Mark - #06275  
> Harry - #042779  
> Chord - #024673  
> Damian - #0326426  
> Samuel - #0726835  
> Alex - #02539  
> Jacob - #052262  
> Blake - #025253  
> Max - #0629  
> Grant - #047268  
> Lea - #0532  
> Naya - #06292  
> Heather - #04328437  
> Melissa - #06354772  
> Jenna - #053662  
> Becca - #023222  
> Amber - #026237  
> Vanessa - #08263772  
> Ashley - #0274539  
> Dianna - #0342662  
> Lauren - #0528736
> 
> There you have it! Last but not least, please please please tell me what you think! Reviews make me smile and keep me writing! Thanks!

SLAM! The door to the hole shut with a bang with the notorious CP inside.

CP was what his fellow prisoners called him. Some of the more rotten guards merely called him #024747867437, his prison number. Yes, it was long. But at Angeles State Penitentiary, your number was as long as the letters in your first name with a zero in front. CP's first name was Christopher. And that was what the nicer guards called him, but never in a sense that other prisoners could hear. They didn't like the prisoners to be on first name basis.

But CP was notorious. So much so that Warden Murphy had made it a point that he should not have a cell mate. It was rumored that he had brutally killed the last two.

That did nothing to ease the worries of News and Gust, the prisoners in the cell next to CP's. Their real first names were Alex and Grant but the prisoners called them News (Alex) and Gust (Grant). CP would call them trash, filth, whores, whatever words he could get his hands on.

But one thing the prisoners didn't know about CP was that his hard ass attitude was an act. A show for them. He was actually extremely guilty for the reason he was in prison. But physically, he looked easy to push around and growing up, he always had been. The truth, he was damn scared that no one, not even prisoners here, would accept the real him. So he masked himself under a guise that earned him the title of most notorious at Angeles State Penitentiary. Good enough for him.

CP was often shut up in the hole for hours at a time. He acted out on purpose to get sent there. He needed the solitary time to regroup and strengthen his walls so no one would see the real him.

And so he sat in the dark, back pressed against the wall of the solitary confinement cell, eyes shut, breathing deeply.

While CP stayed confined to the hole, Officer Morrison was currently leading a handcuffed newbie up two flights of stairs in cell block 7.

Darren Criss, soon to become known by his fellow prisoners as Everett, solemnly followed behind the guard. He swallowed hard. His usually tan face was pale and void of the normal exuberant happiness he displayed. Truth be told, Darren was scared shitless.

Countless prisoners watched silently as they passed, Officer Morrison with his eyes on the cell at the very end of the third floor.

They strode down the row, passing prisoners whose eyes were widening with every single step.

At long last, they passed the cell of News and Gust and their eyes were widest of all.

"Are you crazy Officer Morrison?" Gust bit out in surprise. The guard stopped, key raised to slide into the lock of the currently empty cell on the end. "You can't place him in there! CP will eat him alive!"

For a moment, Officer Morrison just looked at him. "If CP keeps acting out the way he is, he won't be in the cell long enough to say hello," he replied, inserting the key and popping the lock.

Officer Morrison was one of the ones that didn't refer to the prisoners by their numbers. But revealing another prisoner's first name in front of fellow prisoners was considered an invasion of that individual's privacy. It was up to them if they wanted their fellow prisoners to know their name. So Officer Morrison often referred to them by nickname or last name.

"He's in the hole again?" News asked happily.

Officer Morrison sighed heavily, pulling open the cell door. "He's really not that bad if you get him to open up to you," he said shortly. "Here you are Criss. As News has just mentioned, your cell mate is currently in solitary confinement. You likely won't be meeting him for a number of hours."

Gust frowned. "I thought first names were invasion of privacy," he said.

Darren had just stepped into the cell and raised his wrists for Officer Morrison to remove the cuffs.

"Criss is my last name. You can call me Everett," he said shortly.

"Is that your first name?" News asked.

"My middle," Everett replied. He rubbed at his wrists and took a seat on the bottom bunk, noting that CP seemed to normally occupy the top one. He said not a word more as Officer Morrison shut and locked the cell door and went along his way, swinging his keys.

Three cell halls over in cell block 10, chaos was amidst. Ink and Ness, nicknames for prisoners Ashley Fink and Vanessa Lengies, were arguing with Officer Lynch.

"She really shouldn't even be in a prison!" Ink spat out.

"Look at the poor girl! She has a disorder! How can anyone put her here? At least give her a cell mate!" Ness threw in. Both women were looking at the cell next door which had been filled the day before by a young woman named Lauren Potter who they were deemed to call Pots. But Ink and Ness didn't see the fairness of shutting her in a prison.

Officer Lynch stood to her full height. She didn't like arguing with the women on her cell block. She tuned both of them out as they continued to make protests. It was Pots surprisingly who brought a stop to it all.

"Will you stop arguing? I'm here because I wanted to be treated just like anyone else! I do the crime, I do the time."

The three of them stared at her. Well Officer Lynch stared at her. Ink and Ness glanced in her direction through the bars of their cell.

A heavy sigh left Officer Lynch's mouth and she rubbed her temples. "There you have it. No more protesting from either of you two or I will throw you both in solitary confinement, something I'd really hate to do. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Officer Lynch," Ink and Ness said in unison. Officer Lynch nodded and strolled from the cell block. Ink and Ness turned their attention back to their new neighbor.

"Why?" Ness asked.

"Why what?" Pots replied, slightly confused.

"I understand wanting to be treated like everyone else, but why take it as far allowing yourself to be put in prison?"

Pots was quiet for a long time. At first, Ness and Ink didn't think she was going to answer. But when she did, it was soft and they had to lean as close to her cell as they possibly could to hear her.

"I have Down Syndrome. People think that makes me incapable of being like everyone else. It's something I was born with and would automatically get me off on mental instability," she said and both women could hear the scowl in her voice. "I was always taught growing up that I was no different than anyone else, that I could do anything I wanted to, just like they can. I don't want to be treated different because of my disorder. So if anyone else would go to prison, I was determined to prove I could handle it too."

Her words made sense to both Ink and Ness. She didn't want to be discounted or let off the hook because of her disorder.

"I think that makes you braver and stronger than anyone in here," Ink said.

"Except perhaps CP," Ness commented. They both gave each other worried looks.

"Who's CP?" Pots asked.

Ink and Ness glanced at each other again. Well, she was bound to learn sometime, right? Best be now.

"He's the most notorious prisoner in the entire prison," Ink replied.

"He may not look like it, but he is," Ness added. "There's not a prisoner here who isn't scared shitless of him."

"Are you talking about CP?" came a voice from the cell above Ink and Ness'. The walls were thin and they could hear each other through the ceiling.

"Yes River," Ink replied. River, one letter off the girl's last name was the nickname for the Latina in the cell above them.

"He's in the hole again," said a second voice, this one belonging to River's cell mate Morri. "I saw Officer Falchuk carting him off down cell block 12 when Officer Pillsbury was leading me back from my check up.

"Big surprise there," River said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Well I heard they're giving him a cell mate," said a new voice. A small petite brunette stuck her head out of the bars of a cell a few down from River and Morri.

"Where'd you hear that Chelle?" Ness called up.

The petite brunette shrugged. "Gossip travels. And I have my source in cell block 7," she replied.

"You mean your boy toy Monty?" Riles, Chelle's cell mate asked. She was a big heavyset black woman. Quite the contrast from the petite brunette she shared a cell with.

Pots furrowed her brow. "How in the world do you even manage to hook up with guys?" she asked.

"We have mixed recreational yard time, three days a week," called a voice from even higher.

"Right on Witz," River said. "Pots, you ever get confused about the schedule, Witz is your go to girl. Her cell mate is Lis and a few cells down from them are Di and Toby. Oh, and Chelle's cell mate is Riles. We're the only ones really worth knowing."

Those words had several of the women in the block bickering and causing a ruckus.

"Shut your pie holes!" Ink shouted. Surprisingly, that shut them up. "Don't worry Pots, you'll be right at home in no time."

"Well, as at home as you can be in a prison cell," Di quipped. This was enough to get them all laughing.

Back in cell block 7, Everett was keeping to himself, ignoring advances of News and Gust trying to get to know him.

"Give him time. You guys weren't much different on your first night in prison," came the voice of an extremely tall man from a cell on the floor below them.

"Yeah Monty," replied his cell mate Hawk, "But neither News or Gust had a night with CP to look forward to."

"There's no telling whether CP will be back for the night though," Gust pointed out.

"Or that he'll be escorted from the hole for dinner," News added.

One of the men in a cell down on the first floor involuntarily shuddered. When he spoke, his Irish accent was thick.

"Don't mention that News. Honestly, the way they escort you to dinner from solitary confinement is worse than when they decide you haven't suffered long enough to even attend dinner and just throw two pieces of dry stale bread in the hole at you," he said.

Everett shot up at that. "They'll do that?" he asked with fear in his voice.

"Sure will," replied the Irish guy. "And they call me McG. My cell mate is Jr. The two voices you heard before mine are Monty and Hawk. Up there on the second floor with them are Lars and Addy. Down here on the first floor, we've got Mickey and CO on one side of us and BJ and Brush on the other."

"Thank you for clearing up introductions McG," Gust said.

"My pleasure," McG replied.

"And everyone else?" Everett asked.

"Not worth two in a bush," Hawk called up to him.

"Good to know." He returned to minding his own business on his bottom bunk, his thoughts returning to this CP character. Who was the guy? And was he really as bad as the others made him sound?

Standing up, Everett took the time to look around the cell. There were the minimal belongings that CP had been allowed to keep with him in the cell. A small photograph containing a man, a woman, and a younger girl was tacked to the wall. CP's family he guessed. Probably parents and sister most likely. And then be noticed the journal sitting on the pillow of the top bunk. Everett had just reached out a hand to pick it up when he yanked it back. No, that was an invasion of privacy and he wouldn't betray his cell mate's trust before he'd even met him, if he even had a chance to earn it.

"Did you guys know CP writes?" he asked curiously.

"What?" Monty asked from down below.

"Yeah," Everett replied. "There's a journal sitting on his pillow."

"Huh," Monty said. "I never would have guessed."

"Me either," Hawk agreed."

Nothing more was said and the lot of them fell into silence, aside from various cell mates keeping quiet conversation with each other.

* * *

 

Dinner was a massive crowd of chaotic noise and Everett found himself sitting at a table with a tray of food that was surprisingly not half bad for prison food. It was like they actually cared about their prisoners eating or something. He was surrounded by the other guys from cell block 7, whom he was getting a proper look at for the first time. That was a relief.

The dining hall at Angeles State Penitentiary was a coed dining hall that was organized so that each cell block had a table. Cell blocks 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, and 11 were comprised of male prisoners. Cell blocks 2, 4, 6, 8, and 10 were comprised of female prisoners. And cell block 12 was the solitary confinement cell block. There was a table for those prisoners too but it didn't always have all of them.

Like with any prison or school, the prisoners tended to clique together, making allies with those in their own cell block. But many of them also went out of their way to avoid anyone in cell block 7. They didn't want to risk the possibility of a confrontation with CP. Not to mention, living on cell block 7 was considered a death sentence regardless of whether or not you were in the cell farthest from CP's.

The only prisoners that seemed to have no issues socializing with the men from cell block 7 were a group of women from cell block 10.

"Evening Monty," Everett heard a rather petite brunette tell the tall man in a flirtatious voice as she moved along to her table, tray in hand.

"Something between you two?" he asked, glancing at Monty who seemed to be watching the girl's ass as she walked away.

"Huh? Oh, kinda. That's Chelle. I definitely would be interested if we weren't in prison," he said, stabbing his fork at the spaghetti on his tray. "I know her first name."

That was enough to get Hawk, who Everett had come to find had a mohawk hairdo, to snap his head up.

"Dude, she told you her first name?!" he asked in surprise. This seemed to be an awfully big deal around the prison. It must be a level of trust for one prisoner to give another their first name.

"Yeah. And she knows mine."

Hawk stared at him for several moments. "I don't even know yours," he said finally, shaking his head.

Monty looked back at him. "Well, I don't know yours either so that makes us even," he replied in a slightly bitter tone. "Sorry."

Suddenly, conversation was brought to a halt as the entire dining hall fell silent, once the clatter of cutlery hitting trays had died down. Everett glanced around, fork still in hand, wondering what had caused the sudden silence. He finally noticed that everyone was looking at the doorway. So he followed their gaze.

What he saw made his breath catch in his throat. Standing in the doorway, flanked by two guards was a tall slender pale man and Everett would be damned if he wasn't the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. His hands were cuffed in front of him and he had his eyes fixed straight ahead, calling a strong steady gaze that seemed to instill fear in the occupants of the room. And Everett knew at once who this must be. CP.

One of the guards flanking the pale prisoner moved to stand in front of him while the other took up the spot behind. Together, they marched the prisoner into the dining hall. It wasn't until they had reached the food line that the front guard turned and removed the handcuffs from the prisoner. Then both guards stood back and the pale man picked up a tray, silently moving down the line and collecting his food.

Everett watched as the two guards escorted him to the cell block 12 table where only about two other prisoners were seated, also flanked by guards.

The pale prisoner slapped his tray down at the end of the table. He slid onto the bench and proceeded to make eye contact with every single person in the room. When his eyes finally found Everett's, he seemed to stay there, holding his gaze for several long moments before finally tearing his eyes away and moving on.

But that one steady gaze was enough to flip Everett's whole world upside down. He decided that no matter what it took, he was going to get to know this man. He was going to find a way to get him to trust him. He was going to be the first person to actually befriend CP.

"Dude, you okay?" Monty's voice broke Everett from his musing. How long had he been out of it? Obviously, things had gone back to normal in the dining hall. Why had everyone stopped and watched every single movement that CP made? Everett chanced a glance at the cell block 12 table. CP had his head down, slowly eating through his spaghetti, flanked on each side by the guards that were standing behind him with their hands clasped behind their backs.

"Yeah," Everett finally managed to say, tearing his eyes away from CP and looking back at Monty. "What was that all about?"

"That was CP man," said the guy Everett had come to learn was called Mickey.

"I know that but…why did everyone react that way when he entered? They didn't do that for either of the other solitary confinement prisoners."

Monty and Mickey looked at each other. The new kid had a lot to learn.

"Dude," Monty said. "He's not just any prisoner."

"He's CP," Mickey added. "He's the most notorious prisoner in the entire prison."

"And for him to be escorted to dinner from solitary is rare," Monty finished. "He's usually just given the two pieces of stale bread on days he's in solitary during dinner or meal times in general."

Everett risked another glance at CP. "So what does it mean?" he asked.

Mickey drew a breath. "It means you'll be meeting your cell mate tonight."

Everett swallowed, not sure if he was ready to meet the infamous CP yet or not. But it seemed that now that he would.

"How do you know that?" he asked suddenly.

News cut in from his place a few spots down the table. "Because when a prisoner is escorted to dinner from solitary confinement, it usually means they'll be returned to their cell afterward."

Everett glanced once more at CP. He seemed to have finished his meal because he was now standing and walking his tray over to the trash bin. He forcefully hit the tray against the bin, knocking all scraps of trash off it, before setting it in the dish tub. Everett continued to watch as he turned obediently and stuck out his wrists. The guard recuffed them before the three proceeded to head out of the dining hall in the same fashion they had entered, one in front of the prisoner and one behind him.

Everett suddenly felt ill. He pushed his tray away, not trusting himself to finish his dinner. If what Monty and Mickey had just told him was correct, he would find himself with company when he returned to the cell.

Some time later, Everett wasn't sure how much, he found himself merely going through motions as he followed in the single file line of prisoners being lead back to cell block 7 by Officers Morrison and Falchuk.

Time seemed to pass in one long steady stream and soon he found himself climbing the last flight of stairs to the third floor with News, Gust, and the other various prisoners on the left side of the third floor in cell block 7. They were accompanied by Officer Falchuk as Officer Morrison was returning the prisoners on the right side of the cell block.

He could tell that the little light in the cell he had been assigned was on, a fact that confirmed what he had been expecting. CP had been returned to the cell. Everett swallowed hard. News and Gust both gave him sympathetic looks as they entered their own cell, leaving him the last prisoner still not back in his cell.

The last few steps to his cell seemed to both take forever and no time at all. CP didn't even look up when Officer Falchuk stuck the key in the lock. Everett could see that he was reclined on the bed with a paperback book in his hand. He must have been engrossed or something.

Officer Falchuk flung the cell door open and stood back. "Okay Everett, have a pleasant night," he said. Everett nodded and stepped into the cell, the sound of the door clanging shut sealing his fate. He listened silently to Officer Falchuk's footsteps falling away as he headed back down the third floor corridor.

There were a few tense moments. CP didn't move. He didn't seem to even acknowledge the newcomer in the cell. Everett wasn't sure if he was grateful or hurt by this development. He took a seat on his bottom bunk and stared solidly at the wall.

"So I see the warden has gone back on his word," CP finally said, startling Everett out of his thoughts. He caught a glimpse of the pale man through the small mirror on the cell wall. He hadn't moved from his position. His eyes were still on the paperback in his hand.

"W-what do you mean?" Everett stammered, keeping his eyes on the mirror, watching for signs of movement from CP.

And there it was. CP set down the paperback and turned his head ever so slightly, just enough that he caught Everett's gaze in the mirror.

"Warden Murphy put a no cell mates for CP policy up," he said slowly. Everett took a moment to marvel at the clear high pitched tone to the man's voice. It was just as beautiful as the rest of him was.

"Oh?"

CP turned his head more so that now his eyes were firmly locked on Everett's in the mirror. "No one told you?"

"Told me what?"

"That I'm the most feared prisoner in this damn joint."

Everett laughed drily. "Oh, yeah, that. They told me."

CP was silent for a moment. "And they didn't tell you the rumor?"

Everett's face took on an expression of confusion mixed with concern.

"What rumor?" he asked.

A slow smirk worked it's way across CP's face and Everett would be damned if that wasn't the hottest thing ever. He felt a pressure in his pants, biting his lip with the realization that it was so easy for CP to turn him on.

"That I killed my last two cell mates," CP said darkly.

Everett froze. That couldn't be true, could it? No, no something about CP was off. Everett couldn't put his finger on it but something told him that CP was not nearly the bad ass everyone thought he was. Well he was going to get to the bottom of it.

"And did you?" he finally asked. He could tell through the mirror that he had caught CP completely off-guard if the look of surprise on his face was anything to go by. And just those simple three words seemed to be enough to momentarily crash through whatever barrier CP had put up. Everett watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. But the resolve only lasted a moment before his defenses went back up and he smirked again.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he slowly drawled. "Shame if you do because the only way you'll find out is if you join them and that would be sad because you're such a pretty thing to look at."

That caught Everett off-guard. Was he flirting with him?

"I do hope you remembered to bring soap on a rope gorgeous. Tomorrow is shower day."

That was the last CP spoke to him. Everett watched in the mirror as he returned to his paperback, clearly communicating that their conversation was over and he had the final word.

And that was the way it stayed until Officer Morrison called lights out a few hours later.


	2. A Breakthrough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter include implied drug use, fighting, and slight shower play.
> 
> I'd also like to note a few things about nicknames. I tried to give everyone a nickname that was evolved from some part of their actual name to make things a little less confusing but if you need to, you can always refer to the list in chapter one. Given that, two of them have nothing to do with their actual name. Hawk and Brush. So let me explain those.
> 
> Mark's nickname is Hawk for two reasons. One, because of his moHAWK and two, because Mark is fascinated by and studies birds and a hawk is a kind of bird.
> 
> Jacob's nickname Brush is simple to explain actually. Seeing as his last name is Artist, I thought of an Artist's brush, like a painter so there you go.
> 
> I hope the others are easy enough to figure out but if you want me to explain how I got them, feel free to ask. For reference, CP are Chris' first and middle initials just in case that was a little confusing. Everett is explained within chapter one of the story but even so, I'm sure we all know it's Darren's middle name!
> 
> Anyway, bit of insight and a look at the real CP in this chapter, major breakthrough for Darren! Hope you enjoy! Comments always make me smile and keep me writing! Happy reading!

"Shit!"

 

The sudden hiss of an expletive woke Everett some hours later in the middle of the night. He blinked warily, attempting to adjust to the dark. He could just barely make out the figure standing in the corner of the cell.

 

What was CP doing?

 

Everett didn't have a clue. He pulled himself into a sitting position, moving quietly so as not to draw attention to himself. He could see that the other prisoner was bent over, hand feeling for something on the floor. He opened his mouth to say something about turning on the light but stopped himself for two reasons.

 

One, he didn't want CP to know that he was awake and watching him. Who knew how the most notorious prisoner in the entire facility would take that?

 

And two, he was pretty sure turning on the light after lights out would be a rule violation. It was so quiet otherwise in the building that Everett could hear the footsteps of the night guards pacing up and down the corridors outside the cell.

 

CP seemed to find whatever he was fumbling on the floor for and Everett narrowed his eyes in an attempt to make out the shape of the object. It looked to be about the length of a pen or pencil, cylindrical in shape and was thicker at one end than the other. In fact, one end of the cylindrical object was extremely thin and skinny. It wasn't until Everett caught the slight spurt of liquid coming from the thin end of the object that he realized what it was.

 

The man couldn't hold back his gasp and CP's head shot up. Even in the dark, Everett could see the cold flash in his eyes.

 

"What the fuck are you doing awake?" CP ground out in a harsh whisper. Everett had to admit that hearing curse words and harsh tones coming from his cell mate sounded kind of forced, like it wasn't natural for him to talk like that. And this small detail had him wondering whether CP was the big man everyone claimed he was. "I'm waiting princess!" he spat.

 

Everett swallowed and shut his eyes for a moment, collecting himself. He decided that it was best for him to be honest.

 

"You woke me up when you cursed a few moments ago," he said. CP's eyes glowed in the dark as he studied him. He seemed to be better adapted to seeing things in the dark than Everett was. Everett got the sense that he was often awake at odd hours.

 

"Light sleeper?" CP questioned. This wasn't the reaction Everett had been expecting and he drew back in slight surprise.

 

"When I'm in an unfamiliar bed, yes," he replied after a moment's hesitation.

 

CP watched him for a second before giving his head a curt nod. His fingers curled protectively around the object in his hand that Everett had just recognized as a needle. Where did he get it? Why did he have it? More importantly, what was in it? Everett didn't need to question what he was going to do with it. He wasn't that daft.

 

The subject of prisoners and shooting drugs was not something Everett wanted to associate himself with but the fact of the matter was, it happened. And he was slightly surprised to see that CP partook in this particular prison familiar. He didn't strike him as the type of guy who would.

 

"You can't really sleep in a bed not all that comfortable anyway," CP said, pulling Everett from his thoughts.

 

It was in that moment, strangely, that Everett felt something shift within himself and his brain was screaming that he could trust this man. He didn't know why but he just felt he could completely trust the most notorious prisoner in the entire place more than he could anyone else.

 

"Darren," Everett blurted out before he really registered what he was doing.

 

He could see CP's eyes watching him intently. They seemed to glow in the dark of the cell.

 

"Pardon?" the other asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

 

"My name is Darren," Everett said. "My real name."

 

For a moment, CP just stared at him wide-eyed. Everett heard him set the needle down on something before walking to the front of the cell and gazing out at the cell block, apparently checking for something but what Everett didn't know. After a moment, it became clear that CP was checking if the coast was clear. He switched on the small cell light.

 

Everett blinked in the dim lighting, willing his eyes to adjust. And when they did, they finally settled on CP. His expression was unreadable. He had his arms folded across his chest and Everett noted the band tied around his left bicep. Clearly, he'd been in the middle of shooting up. That's what must have happened. He'd been preparing to shoot up and ended up dropping the needle on the floor. He could see now that it was resting on the edge of the small sink below the mirror.

 

"Why would you tell me that?" CP asked. His tone was just as unreadable as his face.

 

Everett shrugged. "I don't know. I know it sounds crazy what with you being the most notorious prisoner in here and me only having met you a few hours ago. I can't explain it but I just have this nagging in my gut that I can trust you," he replied.

 

CP looked at him for a long moment.

 

"I'm not," he finally said, eyes glancing out of the cell.

 

Everett was confused. "Sorry? You're not what?"

 

CP turned to look at him. "I'm not the most notorious prisoner in here. I just built a reputation so that everyone thinks I am."

 

Everett stared at him. "Why? Why would you want other people to fear you?"

 

CP's gaze seemed far off and distant as he looked away from him and when he finally spoke, his tone was soft and broken.

 

"Because if they fear me, they won't feel the need to ridicule me."

 

Everett was stunned. He didn't have any clue what CP meant by that but he was willing to bet that it had something to do with his home life. And for these few brief moments, Everett caught a glimpse of the real man behind the tough guy exterior. And then it was gone and the walls were back up. CP turned a hard look on him.

 

"If you tell anyone I said that, I'll break your neck, got it?" he spat sharply.

 

"Y-yeah. No worries. Your secret's safe with me," Everett rushed to assure him.

 

"Good," CP said firmly. "Now go back to sleep," he added, shutting off the little light again. Everett was just able to make out him picking up the needle. He wanted to protest and stop him but he didn't want to know what CP might do if he did. So reluctantly, he lay back down on his bunk and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

If Everett thought that prison life wasn't going to be as bad as he had originally expected, he was completely wrong. The first incident started the next morning at breakfast.

 

CP was sitting at the end of the cell block 7 table, putting as much distance between himself and the other prisoners in cell block 7. He was merely stirring the bowl of oatmeal that was sitting in front of him. Everett couldn't keep his eyes off him. Especially now that he could see the point of insertion on CP's left arm.

 

"He doesn't try to socialize?" he asked, eyes still focused on his cell mate.

 

"Are you kidding?" Gust asked through a mouthful of cream of wheat. "Why would he? He doesn't want to make friends and everyone's afraid of him."

 

"With the exception of that prisoner in cell block 3 he gets his drugs from," Hawk proclaimed, motioning with his spoon as he pointed toward the cell block 3 table.

 

So they knew that CP was shooting up. Why hadn't they told him that? Everett was about to say as much when a big tough guy at the cell block 3 table stood and started making his way over to the cell block 7 table. He was cracking his knuckles and looked fairly angry.

 

Everett watched in silence, as did the entire dining hall, as the guy approached CP, who seemed to be the only one ignoring the situation. He continued to stir his oatmeal.

 

"Where is it?!" the big guy spat when he reached CP. CP finally looked up from his oatmeal and Everett was surprised to see that he was completely unfazed by the guy's toughness.

 

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," he replied in a bored voice, looking back down at his still uneaten oatmeal.

 

The big guy slammed his hand palm flat into the pilar right next to CP's head. CP didn't even flinch.

 

"Don't give me that shit Colfer!" Colfer. Everett wondered if that was CP's last name. He knew that the guards would use any means necessary to reference prisoners without using their first name. That was privileged information. "You owe me dough! For the drugs!"

 

CP looked up and lifted his spoon. He slid one bite of oatmeal into his mouth before pushing the bowl away and standing up. His eyes and expression took on a stony cold exterior as he leveled himself with the big guy.

 

"I gave Squirrel the money to give to you," he said cooly. "If he didn't deliver the package, that's not my problem. I paid my end."

 

The big guy gritted his teeth and slammed his palm against the pilar again. CP still didn't flinch. Everett watched the big guy turn and look over at his table. A lanky blonde with a crop of hair that resembled the bushy tail of a squirrel shivered in his seat.

 

Big guy didn't move from his spot. He pointed at Squirrel. "Is that true? Did he give you the money to give to me?" Squirrel seemed to hesitate. Everett had a feeling that CP had been telling the truth. But this was prison. You never knew when supposed allies would throw you under the bus. On the other hand, Squirrel's current state seemed to suggest that he wasn't that good at lying.

 

A moment later though, he stiffened up and narrowed his eyes, completely masking his fear. Maybe he did have what it took to be in prison after all.

 

"He's lying Ham," Squirrel said. Big guy, or Ham, seemed ready to believe Squirrel over CP and why wouldn't he? They were in the same cell block after all. "I never saw a dime of that money." Everett caught the fact that one of his hands was behind his back and he became certain that his fingers were crossed. It became clear then that Squirrel was the kind of guy who got off starting a riot or causing trouble. He wanted to see some altercation between Ham and CP.

 

As these things snapped into place, Everett scrambled up from the table. In the few seconds that had transpired, Ham had turned from facing Squirrel and dove right into swinging a fist at CP, who still didn't even flinch.

 

Gasps sprung up around the dining hall. Whispers of asking whether Ham was really stupid enough to take a swing at CP swiveled up all around them.

 

The next few crucial seconds were a blur and the next thing Everett knew, he was standing in front of CP, his arm straining with the force of having caught Ham's fist in his hand.

 

"Your little friend is lying," Everett quipped. CP was stood behind him with a surprised expression as though he could not believe this man he didn't even know was trying to protect him. And really, Everett didn't want to see his pretty face marred.

 

"You callin' me a liar punk?!" Squirrel spat. Standing swiftly from the cell block 3 table. It was in that moment that Everett learned there was more to his nickname than just the hair. He was fast and the next thing Everett knew, he was on the ground with a busted lip. Squirrel was on him, continuously swinging one punch after another.

 

Beside them, Ham had continued his quest of punching CP but surprisingly, CP had the upper hand. He had a bruise forming on his left cheek, which Everett would learn later he had purposely allowed so that he would be seen as acting in self defense, which wasn't a lie because he was. But at the moment, CP had Ham pinned to the ground. He was sitting on him, holding both fists above his head. Ham's face was battered from the many surprisingly strong punches CP had thrown at it.

 

"Had enough yet?" Everett heard CP ask calmly.

 

He swallowed the oof as Squirrel sent another fist into his stomach and Everett saw stars. The sounds of the rest of the prisoners chanting for a fight seemed a million miles away.

 

And then it was over. Everett blinked. Two guards had pulled Squirrel off of him. A third was helping him up. Two more, one of which was Officer Morrison, were restraining CP, which wasn't really an effort because he wasn't bothering to struggle. It took three guards to get Ham up off the ground. The big guy still had his teeth gritted and he was struggling against his hold, shouting about how he wasn't done with CP.

 

A shrill whistle blew through the dining hall and everyone fell silent. Ham and Squirrel stopped struggling against the guards and the two guards restraining CP loosened their grip.

 

Warden Murphy was standing in the doorway. He marched silently through the dining hall until he came to a stop directly in front of Ham. He narrowed his eyes at him, nostrils flaring.

 

Turning, Warden Murphy fixed his gaze suddenly on CO at the cell block 7 table.

 

"Overstreet, what's going on here?" he demanded. CO stood carefully from the table.

 

"Ham demanded money from CP. CP said that he gave it to Squirrel for Squirrel to give to Ham. Squirrel said that CP was lying so Ham went to throw a punch at CP but Everett jumped in and caught it."

 

Warden Murphy turned his gaze on Everett. "Is that true Criss?" he asked.

 

Everett nodded shakily. "Yes sir Mr. Warden sir," he replied. Warden Murphy studied his face for a moment.

 

"Why are you beat up?" he asked.

 

Everett swallowed. "Because I called Squirrel a liar. I could see right through him. He had his fingers crossed behind his back when he told Ham CP was lying," he said, voice shaking slightly. "He got mad and attacked me."

 

Warden Murphy nodded. His gaze shifted to between CP and Ham. "Why is there a bruise on your face CP?" he asked, surprisingly calm. Everett got the sense that oddly enough, the warden had a soft spot for CP.

 

CP tensed a bit, an action that both confused and surprised Everett.

 

"I let Ham punch me after Squirrel attacked Everett," he replied quietly.

 

"Why?"

 

"Self-defense," CP replied.

 

Warden Murphy, as well as everyone else in the dining hall stared at him agape. Apparently, CP had never cared about covering his own ass before. He liked getting in trouble. He liked being put in solitary confinement. So why was he saving himself from trouble now?

 

After a moment, Warden Murphy seemed to regain his resolve. He patted CP gently on the uninjured cheek. "Take Squirrel to solitary confinement, bring Ham to my office, Criss is to go to the infirmary, and return CP to his cell. He will be excused from recreational and chore duties for the day. The only time I want to see CP out of his cell today is during meal times and the cell block 7 shower hour this afternoon." With those words, he strode out of the dining hall, giving one last bleat on his whistle.

 

The sounds of prisoners returning to their breakfast faded out as the guard who had helped Everett up lead him out of the dining hall, escorting him to the infirmary, where he would spend the rest of the day, aside from shower hour.

* * *

The next incident happened during shower hour and this one wasn't really something of trouble. It was a regular occurrence but Everett wasn't sure what to make of it and by the end of cell block 7's shower hour, he was blushing from his head to his toes. Weirdly, none of his cell block mates had batted an eyelash.

 

"How you feeling princess?" drawled a voice from behind Everett just as he stepped under the spray. He could hear the guards circling the outside of the communal shower box, occasionally catching a glimpse of them as passed one of the four entrances.

 

Everett shivered slightly. He knew who it was but was afraid to turn his head to look at him. Something told him the way he was acting, CP was only keeping up appearances. He had a reputation to uphold after all.

 

He could feel CP's warm breath on his neck and a shudder rose up Everett's spine when the other man unexpectedly slid his arms around his waist and pressed himself up against him. Everett could feel the muscles in CP's chest against his own back and he was very aware of the thick appendage pressed lightly against his ass. But he tried to ignore it.

 

"I hope you remembered to bring soap on a rope," CP drawled out seductively. "Or perhaps not because I would just love the sight of that perfect ass of yours high in the air while you bend over to get it." Everett shuddered again.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Everett saw CP glance both ways.  None of the other prisoners were paying them any attention. He rested his chin on Everett's shoulder.

 

"But really, how are you feeling Dare?" the man asked and Everett felt a different sort of tingle spread all over his body. For one, CP had used his real name, his real nickname too without realizing it. For another, his words and tone were actually genuine and Everett detected the genuine concern. CP was letting his false guard down. He was giving him a look at the real CP.

 

Everett turned slowly around in the man's arms and locked his eyes on his. At this close proximity, he could see the pain and hurtful past and compassion swirling in the pools of glasz reflecting back at him. CP's eyes were definitely the windows to his soul and he masked his true emotions well.

 

"Why?" Everett asked, keeping his own hazel eyes locked on CP's.

 

"Why what?" the other man whispered.

 

"Why do you let your walls fall for me?" Everett replied quietly.

 

CP stared at him for the longest moment. Everett was glad they had the leniency of an hour to shower.

 

"Because you trusted me without a second thought," CP replied.

 

Everett couldn't hold himself back any longer. He surged forward, closing the small gap between them and sweetly pressed his lips to CP's. The latter gasped slightly and Everett saw his eyes flutter shut. His arms unwound from Everett's waist, coming up to wind themselves around his neck instead. Everett wrapped his own arms around CP's delicate pale waist and pulled him closer.

 

The friction of both their erections pressing together was enough to cause Everett to moan into CP's mouth. This caused the latter to part his lips, allowing Everett to slide his tongue into his mouth. He licked his way into CP's mouth, savoring the sweet taste. When had he had something sweet?

 

They finally had to break for air but CP remained pressed against him with his arms around his neck.

 

"Chris," he whispered.

 

"What?" Everett asked.

 

"My name is Chris." And it was in that moment that Everett knew he had made a break through. He could hardly believe it had happened in less than twenty-four hours of knowing this guy.

 

The soft smile that graced Chris' face fell a few seconds later as his guard went back up. He had to keep up appearances after all. He roughly grabbed Darren by the shoulders and slammed him into the shower wall. Chris and Darren ended there, even though it had only been brief. But they were CP and Everett again.

 

"I'm going to ride you until you come a fucking tidal wave," CP drawled out and Everett had to admit, he rather liked this side of him. It was a major turn on.

 

"No," he said and CP looked at him, momentarily astounded. A slow smile crossed Everett's face but he could see the momentary hurt of rejection in CP's eyes be washed over by anger. "No," he repeated. "I didn't remember to bring soap on a rope." Relief seemed to wash right over CP and the pale man forced Everett harder against the shower wall, slamming his mouth down over his.

 

The forcefulness of CP's movements was enough to drive Everett absolutely crazy. His hands lowered from CP's waist to knead into the surprisingly soft flesh of his ass. It was wonderful. It was erotic. It was absolutely captivating. It was…all wrong.

 

Coming to his senses, his Darren senses, not Everett senses, he pushed CP away from him, catching the other man off-guard.

 

"Wha?" CP asked, so surprised he left off the T. Clearly, he wasn't used to having his advances first accepted and then rejected.

 

Everett looked both ways before grabbing CP by the hand and pulling him out of the showers to a little nook he'd noticed on the way in that made a good private spot. CP was too busy being surprised at all this to get angry, which was a good thing. It gave Everett time to get out what he needed to say.

 

"I'm not going to do that to you Chris. I won't just use you for sex," he said.

 

CP's resolve fell, comforted for the moment by the small nook they were in. "Why not? Everyone else does." The tone in his voice sounded defeated and Darren - not Everett, not now anyway - caught on quickly.

 

"You don't really like it do you?" When Chris didn't reply, he elaborated. "You don't like just having random sex with people."

 

Chris sighed and ran a hand over his face, chancing a glance over Darren's shoulder and hoping none of the other prisoners would catch him being the real him.

 

"CP does. I don't. But what else can I do? I'm the most notorious prisoner in here! I have to keep my guard up," he said in a hushed whisper.

 

"No Chris," Darren said. "CP is the most notorious prisoner here, not you. Not Chris. CP is a character you created. You're guarding yourself with him, aren't you?"

 

Chris stared at him wide-eyed. He couldn't believe this man that he had known for less than a day could already read him like a book and to be honest, it was kind of terrifying. He slowly nodded his head.

 

"Yes. CP protects me so I don't get hurt."

 

Darren looked at him for a moment. "Does this have anything to do with what you told me last night? About not being ridiculed if people fear you?"

 

Chris nodded his head. "Yes. I grew up in Clovis, California Darren. It's a very closed-minded town. I was bullied pretty bad in high school, ridiculed and tormented for just being myself." He bit his lip and Darren felt his heart break. "I didn't have any friends. The only people I could count on to be there for me just for being me were my parents and my little sister, Hannah."

 

"Are they the ones in the picture tacked to the wall?" Darren asked quietly. Chris nodded.

 

"I'm just…I don't know. I've been through ridicule just for being me that I guess I have it in my head that no one will like me for me. I'm terrified of other people finding out, finding the main reason I've been bullied all my life and then bullying me for it. So instead of letting others see, I created a reason for them to fear me. That way, I wouldn't have to risk getting close to anyone."

 

Chris shyly looked up at Darren through his eyelashes, still biting his lip. Darren felt for him. "Why are you bullied Chris?" he asked gently.

 

Chris hesitated. "Because my voice is too feminine," he started and Darren felt a surge of pain. He loved Chris' voice even after only knowing him nearly a day. He didn't think he could live without hearing it. "Because of my less than masculine features. Because of my love of theater and show tunes. But most of all, because I'm gay."

 

There, he'd said it. It was out in the open. And he was prepared for opening up himself to make the one thing happen he expected it to. Yes, Darren had kissed him in the showers but who knew he wasn't just horny and desperate? Who said he wasn't really disgusted by it? He closed his eyes and waited for the hate to come. He waited for Darren to tell him how disgusting he was, to throw those hateful slurs in his face, to tell him he was going to have the warden get his cell changed so he wouldn't have to live with a fag. He prepared himself for the rejection that letting Darren know all this was sure to cause.

 

But it never came. Instead, Chris felt Darren's hand gently caress his cheek. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at Darren who was looking back at him with the gentlest expression Chris had ever seen in his life.

 

"That's horrible Chris. If they couldn't see what an amazing person you are, than they aren't worthy of knowing you," Darren said gently.

 

"You're not disgusted?" Darren shook his head. "Why?"

 

"I grew up in San Francisco, perhaps the most gay friendly city in the entire state of California," he started. "I don't believe in labels. You fall in love with a person Chris, not a gender."

 

Chris stared at him for several long moments before he flung himself into Darren's arms, hugging him tightly. Darren hugged him back.

 

"Thank you," Chris choked out. Darren just rubbed his back.

 

"And that is why I'm not going to just use you for sex, not even to keep up appearances," Darren said when they pulled out of the hug. "For me, such acts of intimacy mean something. I know we've barely known each other a day but I already care about you and if we get to that point, I want it to actually mean something, for both of us," he explained. "Because you mean something to me."

 

Chris flung himself back into Darren's arms and cried wholeheartedly into his shoulder. Darren just held him, letting him cry.

 

Until they heard the guard whistle. "Ten minutes left!" called one of the guards.

 

Chris instantly but reluctantly extracted himself from Darren's arms and hastily wiped his eyes, throwing his guard walls up again.

 

"You mention this to anyone, I'll break your neck Everett." And just like that, CP was back again. But just as he sauntered pass to finish up, he turned and gave Darren a grateful wink before the CP persona completely took over and Chris was gone.

* * *

When Everett was escorted back to his cell from the infirmary later that night, it was to find CP sitting on the toilet, arm tied off and syringe needle pressed into the skin. Everett cringed.

 

"Why do you do that?" he asked. CP's head snapped up. He hastily pulled the needle from his arm and dropped it unceremoniously to the floor.

 

"Don't do that!" CP growled. Everett jumped. CP waited until the sounds of the guard walking away had faded completely. "Sorry," he said genuinely and that flicker of Chris was back.

 

Everett dropped down onto his bunk carefully, lying back against it so as not to aggravate any of the wounds he'd gotten in the fight that morning.

 

"Chris…" he started slowly. All it took was the sound of his real name and CP dropped away, allowing Chris to break through.

 

"I'm not really doing it Darren," he said. Darren's eyes flickered to the small spot of blood on Chris' arm where the needle had clearly punctured the skin. He raised an eyebrow.

 

"The blood on your arm would suggest otherwise," he said in a sort of sad voice.

 

Chris sighed and picked the needle up off the ground. He held it out to Darren who widened his eyes like he was crazy. He waved his hands in front of his face.

 

"Trust me," Chris said. "Just test the liquid Dare. You'll see what I mean."

 

Hesitantly, Darren reached out and took the syringe needle. His hands were shaking slightly but he upturned his left hand and pressed on the button on the syringe. It slowly spurted a few drops of clear liquid into his hand. Darren brought his hand up and sniffed. There was no smell. He gave Chris a funny look.

 

"It's water," the other man said. Darren stared at him with wide eyes. Chris picked up a little box sitting beside him and opened it to reveal three small bottles of morphine. "I'm an informant for Warden Murphy. These are going to him for evidence against Ham."

 

It seemed to make sense all of a sudden. "So was that whole thing this morning staged?" he asked, scared that he might have gotten himself hurt for nothing.

 

Chris quickly shook his head. "Not exactly. I guess you could say CP's reactions were staged but that's because Warden Murphy and I discussed what I was to do in certain situations. I acted accordingly. And before you ask why I'm still 'shooting up' it's because Ham is very observant as are a lot of the prisoners. We didn't want them catching on that I'm being used as an insider. Water and morphine are both clear so I've been filling the needles with water and shooting that instead of the actual drug."

 

"Huh," Darren said, handing Chris the needle back. "And no one has noticed that you're not reacting to the drug?"

 

Chris grinned slyly. "I told you I like theater. I'm a damn good actor."

 

Darren suddenly understood. Chris was acting as though he were actually taking the drug while secretly turning in the drug to the warden. So that explained why the warden seemed to be so fond of "CP".

 

Chris grew very serious for a moment. "You have to keep this to yourself Darren. I'm trusting you."

 

Darren knew what a big thing it was for him to trust somebody. He crossed his heart firmly. "You have my word Chris."

 

Chris nodded. "Good." He pulled the band off his arm and threw it and the needle in a small trash can in the cell. Then he walked over to the bunks and pulled himself up onto the top bunk. Apparently, that was the end of the day's conversation.

 

Not long after that, Officer Falchuk called for lights out and another night washed over the cell.


End file.
